


Time, Regret, and Turtles

by TheAvengersMascot



Series: temporarily untitled [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Community: norsekink, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, No abuse depicted, Papa Bear Clint, Past Child Abuse, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), de-aged loki, no joke, titles are the bane of my existence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 06:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAvengersMascot/pseuds/TheAvengersMascot
Summary: The Barton family homestead is as isolated and off the grid as it was possible to be. It's location is a secret known only to a select few, none of whom are nearby.So just who is the visitor coming up the road?





	Time, Regret, and Turtles

**Author's Note:**

> I just need to give a quick shoutout to [Victorea_Ryan_Meadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorea_Ryan_Meadow/profile) for planting this plot bunny in my brain. For my own personal Grinch, you're really not all bad. ;)
> 
> Continuation of this [ norsekink prompt.](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=33881237#t33881237)

It was a special skill of sorts, a sixth sense. Clint could never explain how he knew, he just did. Fellow SHIELD agents sometimes made a game of trying to catch him unawares but no one ever succeeded. No matter who, no matter where, he always knew.

The day started out ordinarily enough. He'd been promising his wife for two months that he'd repaint the shutters on the house. He had just finished the last one and was cleaning up the supplies when he felt it.

He knew he was being watched.

Clint looked up from the paint brushes he was cleaning. His sharp eyes caught movement in the distance. He walked around the veranda to get a better look. A man was approaching the property on foot. An old man.

There was a lot that was unusual about that. For one thing, the farm was way off the grid. It wasn't even connected to any of the main roads in the area. For another, the closest inhabited property was an hour's drive away. No way had the old man walked from there. In fact, there was nothing nearby that Clint could imagine him walking from.

Ordinarily he would assume the possibility that any unannounced visitor wasn't a friendly, or that he was working for unfriendlies. If that was the case here though, he was a very strange choice for an operative. Terrorists didn't usually use octogenarians to work for them, even if it was just for recon. And none of the stealth security measures Tony Stark had installed around the property had gone off, which meant the man was alone, unarmed, and unequipped with any electronic device that could be used to communicate or transmit data. As far as Clint's extremely good eyes could see, the old man was just an old man.

Still, it was always good to be cautious.

He left the veranda and walked toward the gate. If there was about to be a confrontation of some kind, he would at least try to keep it some distance from the house. The closer the old man got, though, the more he doubted a confrontation was going to happen. 

His white hair and beard were neat if a little on the long side. The iris of his right eye had the telltale cloudy color of a cataract. He also had a hitch in his left leg as he walked, possibly from arthritis. 

"Hello there," the old man called out once he was close enough. He sounded a little out of breath.

"Hi," Clint answered.

"I hope you can help me."

"Help you with what?"

By now, the old man had reached the gate. "My grandfather had a farm in this area many years ago. I was trying to find his old land but I haven't been back here since I was a boy and my mind isn't what it once was and I've gotten lost. I drove around for hours looking for anything I recognized but my car broke down. You are the first person I've seen for miles." 

It was a plausible enough story, if a bit vague but then, when you aren't a secret agent who needs to know and have thought out every detail of his cover story, that was hardly unusual. 

"Yeah, this area is pretty isolated," Clint said, playing along.

"Indeed," the old man agreed. I'm glad I found you. I was hoping you'd have a phone I could use to call my son."

"Unfortunately, I don't have a landline and cell reception out here is pretty dismal. But I could give you a ride to the nearest town and you could call your son from there."

"That would be a great help, thank you." The old man's shoulders slumped with relief. He cast a longing look over to the house with his good eye. "I hope this isn't too much of an imposition but would you mind if I took a bit of a rest before we set off. I haven't done this much walking for a long time."

Holding back a smirk was no easy task for Clint. They guy's act was about as subtle as a sledgehammer but there didn't seem to be anything nefarious about it. He looked the man up and down for a long while, debating in his head. The old man was probably being less than truthful about how he ended up at the Barton homestead and why, but the longer Clint looked at him, the more certain he felt that he wasn't a threat. There was something about him though, something not quite familiar, but that he recognized all the same. He quickly grew to suspect he knew what it was. This was going to be interesting.

"I guess that would be all right," he said at last, stepping back to let him through the gate.

"Oh, thank you, young man."

Clint couldn't help a laugh. "Been a long time since anyone called me that."

The old man laughed too. "When you get to be my age, everyone seems young."

"I don't doubt it," he replied.

Clint felt more than saw the old man give him a sideways glance at that and wondered if he'd been a little too obvious with that crack, but the moment passed and nothing happened.

"I'd very much like to know whose hospitality I'm enjoying."

He bit his tongue before another sarcastic retort could leap out. "I'm Clint. Clint Barton."

"Edwin Olson." He held his hand out and Clint shook it.

"Honey?" Laura's voice came from the house.

Clint looked up and saw her in the doorway with Nate on her hip. "It's all right, babe." 

She cast a wary look between him and Olson. "You sure?"

"Yeah. He had car trouble." There was a little more amusement in his voice than he intended.

If Olson noticed, he didn't have time to comment because Clint's daughter suddenly appeared, running from around the far side of the house, her hands clasped together and held out in front of her.

"Daddy! Daddy, look!" she hollered.

Cooper came into view hot on her heels. "Lila, it's mine. I found it."

She ran straight up to Clint, oblivious to the visitor. Her brother was a bit more observant, skidding to a halt more than a few feet away. 

"Dad?" he said, uncertain.

"It's fine."

"Look!" Lila exclaimed, thrusting her hands up. Her little fingers parted to reveal a small turtle.

"I found it-"

" _I_ found it," Cooper corrected her, caution forsaken for pride.

"-in the grass by the creek. Can we keep it?"

Clint bent over to look closer though it didn't do him much good. He was an archer, not a zoologist. One turtle was the same as the next as far as he knew. "I don't know if turtles make very good pets. You know you can't cuddle them like a cat or a dog."

"But it's so cute," Lila protested.

He sighed. "All right, maybe. Go see if Mom can find anything to put him in for now and later we'll look up what kind of turtle it is and if it's okay to keep it as a pet. But if not, we're going to put it back, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed gleefully. All of a sudden, she looked up at the old man. "Who are you?"

"This is Mr. Olson," Clint introduced him.

"Hi, Mr. Olson. What's wrong with your eye?"

"Lila! That's rude."

"Oh, sorry," she apologized. She held her hands out to Olson. "Wanna see my turtle?"

"I told you, it's mine," Cooper reminded her.

Olson smiled at both of them before diplomatically answering, "I'd love to see you and your brother's turtle." After a dutiful examination of it, he said, "What a handsome creature."

Lila beamed. "We're keeping him."

She turned and started off for the house, Cooper close behind.

"I said maybe," Clint called after her.

Olson was laughing. "I don't think children ever hear that part."

"They sure don't."

As the two of them resumed walking to the house, Olson said, "My younger son was much the same. He brought home all manner of creatures and begged to keep them all. Once he even brought home a snake so large I still don't know how he carried it."

"Sounds like a handful."

"Indeed, he was," Olson said so softly that Clint thought he might be choking up.

"Is he gone, your son?"

"Yes, he is."

 _That's interesting_. There was genuine grief in Olson's voice, and for once, Clint couldn't think of much to say. He led the way up the porch stairs and into the house in silence. He followed the sound of voices to the kitchen.

Nathaniel was in his high chair by the table. Everyone else was by the counter where Laura was pouring some water into something that looked kind of like a fish bowl. She set it down and held her hand out to Lila, who handed the turtle over to her.

"Why don't you two go find some rocks to put in there so he has somewhere to sit when he'd tired of swimming?" she said, gently putting the turtle in the water.

"Okay," Cooper replied and raced back outside, his sister trailing him for once.

"Where did we get a fish bowl?" Clint asked.

Laura looked at it and her head tilted sideways. "I think it's a vase, actually."

"Weird vase." 

He went over to his youngest, hoisting Nathaniel out of the high chair and over his head, earning a squeal of laughter for his effort. As delightful as that was, Olson kind of put a damper on the moment by watching them intently, as if he was waiting for something.

"Papa?"

Clint turned around and saw a pair of green eyes peeking around the corner into the living room. He shifted his son to one arm and held the other out to Loki. "Hey, bud. Come on over here."

Loki obediently came over. Clint knelt down and hugged him with his free arm. Loki's hair was damp and smelled lightly of shampoo. 

"Did you have your bath already?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why?"

"Mud puddles."

"Couldn't resist, huh?"

Loki shook his head with a look so serious that Clint nearly burst out laughing. He stood up and took Loki by the hand to introduce him to their visitor.

"Loki, this is Mr. Olson. Say hello."

"Hello," Loki obediently parroted.

For a beat or two, Olson stared at Loki like he was seeing a ghost. But whatever memory had seized him let go and his composure returned.

"Loki, eh?" the old man said. "That's a little different."

"I'm adopted," Loki said with a shrug.

Olson replied with a half-grunted, "Oh," like he'd been hit in the stomach. He got another faraway look in his eye for a moment before quickly coming back to the present. He bent down so he was eye level with Loki. "Do you want to know something?"

Loki, ever curious, nodded.

"My son was adopted too."

"Really?" Loki asked, his eyes widening with interest.

"Really. His name is Loren."

"Is he here too?"

Olson shook his head. "No, he isn't."

"Oh." Loki sounded more than a little disappointed. 

"But I can tell you all about him."

Loki's face lit up. "Okay!"

Then the enthusiasm on his face changed back into curiosity, the kind that usually accompanied him doing things like jumping into mud puddles just to see how far he could get the splash to go. At that particular moment, Loki reached out and yanked on Olson's beard. The old man yelped in pained surprise.

"Loki! What are you doing?" Clint exclaimed. The kid had no impulse control at all. "I'm sorry about that.

"It's all right," Olson said with a chuckle as he rubbed his chin. "No harm done. My boys were always doing the same thing when they were small."

Clint looked down at Loki who for some reason was positively beaming at the old man. It was nice to see. A little strange, but nice all the same. They didn't get many visitors to the farm for obvious reasons but when they did, Loki was almost worryingly reserved around them. Not with Edwin Olson, though. 

From the beard tug onward, Loki was a totally different kid. First, he just up and told the old man he could stay for dinner. Then once everyone gathered in the kitchen, he insisted on sitting next to Olson, even scooting his chair over so they were closer together. Throughout the meal, Clint watched his shy little boy talk Olson's ear off, barely pausing to eat himself. Several times, Clint caught Laura's eye and saw the bemusement he felt reflected in her face at their interaction.

It was bizarre to watch, even more so since the two older children practically ignored Olson. The moment they finished eating, Cooper and Lila abandoned them to return to their turtle. Loki left the table when he finished eating too, but only briefly. He came back with one of his favourite books in his hands, which was followed by the strangest thing of all.

Despite being about the equivalent of a human four year-old, Loki knew how to read, and not just the _See Spot Run_ kind of reading that wouldn't be so unusual for a child of four. No, Loki was reading well above his 'age'. Given that, he didn't really care for being read to. He'd tolerate it if he was really tired or if all the kids were reading together but otherwise he preferred to do it himself. So when Loki handed his book to Olson and asked the old man to read it to him, Clint's jaw nearly hit the floor. 

He hadn't really known what was going to happen once he decided to let Olson into the house, nor did he expect Loki to respond the way he did. Once he saw the two of them together though, it confirmed what he suspected. The old man was definitely not an enemy agent of any kind. The truth was probably a lot simpler than that.

Leaving the two of them to their own devices for a while, Clint cleared off the table and washed the dishes while Laura dried.

"He said he had car trouble?" she whispered to him, nodding her head in the direction of the couch.

"That's what he said," he replied, eyes focused on the sink.

Laura brought her hand to his chin and turned him to look at her. "What aren't you telling me? I know you wouldn't let a stranger just waltz in here without a reason and now Loki's practically adopted him. What's going on?"

"I'm not totally sure."

"Clint-"

"When I know, you'll know," he assured her.

She didn't look pleased but neither did she argue the point. Together they finished the dishes in silence. Once they were done, Clint went over to the couch and listened to Olson read the last few sentences of _Horton Hears A Who_ , waiting until he was finished to break up the peaceful little scene.

"I think it's time to say goodbye to Mr. Olson, Loki."

"Why?" Loki whined, something he rarely did.

"Because he needs to get going before it's too late, isn't that right, sir?"

Olson picked up on the cue. "Your father's right. I need to be on my way."

The frown on Loki's face stopped just short of actual pouting. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Olson's neck and the old man returned the hug.

"It was very nice to meet you, Loki."

"Nice to meet you too," Loki replied with a sniffle. "Will you come back and visit?"

"I'll try." 

Loki gave him another hug before reluctantly sliding out of his lap. Clint watched him climb the stairs up to the bedroom, sniffling all the way. He caught Laura's eye and nodded at the stairs. She nodded back.

Turning to Olson again, he said, "We should hit the road."

"Yes," the old man replied vacantly as he eyed the stairs with a wistful gaze though Loki was out of sight by then.

Clint led the way to the front door and they descended the porch steps together. "My truck's around back. That is, if you really do need the ride, your highness. Or do you prefer All-Father?"

The old man froze. "You knew me?"

Suspected would have been more accurate but Clint still answered, "Yep."

"And yet you welcomed me into your home?"

"Well, I figure you're powerful enough to just do whatever you want and there's no way I could stop you. I also figured if that was what you intended, you wouldn't bother with a disguise or a cover story."

"Apparently, I needn't have bothered at all," the old man said with a rueful laugh. "Not when you could see through it with such ease."

"It was the eye," Clint told him, pointing at the milky white cataract. "Kind of a dead giveaway." _Among other things_

"Ah, yes." He reached up and touched the flesh below his eye. "I was never as proficient at shapeshifting as my son. No matter what guise I take on, the eye always gives me trouble."

As he lowered his hand, the air around him seemed to glow. His shirt and pants became Asgardian robes. The cataract eye was covered by a silver eye patch. He stopped favouring his left leg and his posture took on a more regal air. Odin looked exactly the way Clint imagined he would.

"I assume your son is why you're here."

"He is," Odin said.

"And what exactly are your intentions for him?"

"I'm not here take him away from you if that's what you're thinking."

It wasn't until that moment that Clint realized how much tension he'd been holding in from the moment he realized who Edwin Olson probably was. The fact that Odin hadn't come to take Loki by force didn't mean that taking him wasn't his ultimate purpose. Hearing him say it out loud was a huge relief.

"So why are you here, then?"

"It may sound strange to you, but I only wanted to see him."

He was right, it did sound strange to Clint. "Don't you have some kind of all-seeing throne or something up there?"

"Thor sits upon Hliðskjálf now. He has taken his place as ruler of Asgard. I have been travelling the realms since his ascension. I returned only a short while ago, whereupon he told me of his brother."

"And, what, you had to see for yourself?"

Odin's good eye took on that same wistful look as before. "We are a long-lived people, Barton."

"Uh, okay," he said, not sure what that had to do with their conversation.

"It has been hundreds of years since my sons were as young as Loki is now. It is easy to forget the children they once were."

"Somehow I doubt you're here just for nostalgia's sake."

"No," Odin said. "When Loki turned against us, he caused much grief in Asgard, as I know he did here. It was easy to feel anger toward him because of it, to think that he had always bent toward evil, villainy. I even started to believe it must be what he was always destined to be, but this..."

He trailed off, gesturing back toward the house before bringing his hand back to cover his mouth, possibly to hide his trembling lip.

"I'd forgotten he was like this."

There was a long moment of silence between them and Clint wasn't going to be the one to break it. He'd heard enough confessions over the years to recognize Odin wasn't quite finished. 

"My anger blinded me for so long. I could only see the aftermath of Loki's deeds. I neither saw nor wanted to see the part I played in his downfall. But even gods are not immune to the effects of time. It wears away at all things, even anger. It led me to doubt my conviction about Loki's nature, to wonder if he truly always was the way I thought. And now I see the truth. I see my _child_ again. I see what he might have been... if not for me. I was too much a king and too little a father."

 _Wow_ , Clint thought. If Loki spent a lifetime dealing with the kind of mixed feelings that Odin was stirring up in him, it was little wonder he'd lost his mind. He had his own history with a horrible father and a part of him felt no sympathy at all for Odin's apparent remorse over the way he dealt with Loki. The damage was done and all the regret in the universe would never undo it. But another part of him, the part that kept him up at night, terrified that he would screw up his own kids, could imagine that regret all too well.

He reached back and rubbed his neck with his hand, stalling a bit as he gathered his thoughts.

"You know, it's not up to me to say how much of what happened was or wasn't your fault. I'm not a judge to condemn you or a priest to absolve you. You made your choices and there were consequences and you'll have to live with that. Loki made his own choices too, but everything that happened between you two happened in the past. You want to look back, figure out where or how you went wrong, I guess that's a good thing. But by the grace of—I don't even know what power—Loki was given a second chance. He's got no choice but to move forward now. If you want a lowly mortal's advice, you'll do the same."

Telling a near all-powerful being what to do probably wasn't the smartest thing Clint had ever done and he braced himself for some form of smiting, but nothing happened. Odin just stood there.

"There's one more thing," Clint went on. "I know you told Loki you'd try to visit again and I don't know if you meant it or not but if you did, I don't think you should."

Again Clint waited for lightning to strike him down but there was nothing. For a moment, Odin was as still as a statue. Then like a balloon with a pinhole, he just began to deflate. His regal air and posture shrank away until he no longer resembled the god of myth and legend, but an old man. A tired, old man, with shoulders bowed under the weight of his regret. Thousands of years of it.

 _Aw, damn it_ , Clint thought as Odin started to walk away. He just wanted to protect Loki, not break his father.

He reached out and grabbed Odin by the shoulder, making him come to a halt. "Look, we don't know how much he remembers from his old life but if how he was today was any sign, a part of him definitely still loves you. The thing is, if you keep coming and one day he remembers what happened between you two before, I know it'll ruin that. He'll feel like he got taken advantage of, like he was tricked into having a relationship with someone who hurt him because he didn't remember it happened and he won't forgive either of us for it. If he gets his memory back and he wants to see you, fine. If he doesn't, we'll explain his history to him when he's older but either way, seeing you again has to be his choice."

Odin didn't say anything at first. He just reached up and clapped his hand on top of Clint's on his shoulder. When he did say something, his voice was hoarse. "You speak wisdom, Barton. Thank you for taking Loki into your care."

With that, he resumed walking away from the house. Clint stayed where he was. After giving some sign Clint didn't see, there was a crack of thunder and the yard was filled with blinding light. The bifrost picked up Odin and vanished, leaving only some singed grass to prove it was ever there.

Clint took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the last of his tension from being around Odin bleeding away. It was a little bit shocking how easily Odin agreed to Clint's terms, especially after the way he had to deal with Thor over the same thing. He had been preparing for a much bigger fight, not just resigned acceptance. Losing Frigga and his time away from ruling must have really done a number on Odin.

Now that Odin was gone, there was one more thing Clint had to see to. He went back inside the house and climbed the stairs up to the bedrooms. He heard his two oldest chattering excitedly down the hall about aquarium sizes and other things their turtle needed.

"They really don't hear 'maybe', do they," he muttered to himself.

He knocked on the partially closed door to Loki's room before walking in. Loki and Laura were seated cross-legged and facing each other on the bed. Judging by his watery eyes and the tinge of redness at the edges of his nose, Loki had been crying.

"Back so soon?" Laura asked, her tone not at all surprised. She may not have known who their mystery guest was but she clearly knew there was more going on than an old man with car trouble.

"Yeah, I'll fill you in later. I think I need to talk to him."

Laura nodded and reached over to give Loki's arm a reassuring squeeze before sliding off the bed. "I should probably check on the rest."

"Yeah," Clint said. "Apparently the turtle's going to need a fifty-five gallon tank and a heat lamp."

"Oh boy," she sighed.

She brushed past him, hesitating just long enough to squeeze his arm the way she had Loki's. Once she was gone, Clint sat down on the bed. It was only then that Loki looked at him.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Loki asked.

 _One day I'm going to have to get used to you doing that_ , Clint thought. Loki was way more perceptive than a kid his age had any right to be.

"No, he isn't," Clint told him. "He'd like to, but he can't."

Loki looked down again, biting his trembling lip to keep from crying, and Clint felt a flicker of doubt. He believed what he told Odin about it being better that they not interact until Loki either remembered or was old enough to understand their history. Seeing Loki's heartbreak, however, he wondered if he might be wrong. Loki clearly bonded with Odin in the short time they were together. What if it turned out that wasn't a bad thing? What would happen when Loki learned that it was Clint who told Odin to stay away?

All of a sudden, Cooper burst into the room. "Loki, come on! We need to find a heat lamp for our turtle. Mom says there might be one in the barn."

Loki didn't budge at first except to wipe his nose with his sleeve.

"Go on," Clint nudged him

When Loki still didn't get up, Cooper came over and took his hand to pull him along. Loki made a bit of a show of being dragged off the bed but by they time they reached the door, Clint saw a smile starting to form on his face. Together they flew down the hall to the stairs, making Laura flatten herself against the wall as they passed so she wouldn't be run over.

"Was that your doing?" Clint asked, jutting his chin in the direction the boys had run. She shrugged in response.

"I may have said something to Cooper about Loki needing cheering up." She sat down beside him, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. "You look like you need cheering up too."

Clint looked down at his hands. "I was just thinking about all the ways a parent can screw up their kid. My father was a bastard. I swore I'd never be like him."

"Oh, honey. You're not."

"I know, but bad parenting isn't limited to being an abusive drunk. Loki and Thor's father played favourites their whole lives. He kept secrets, lied to them, and look what happened. What if I'm messing up as bad as that, just in a different way?"

Laura reached over and took his hand in hers. "There's no such thing as a perfect parent. We're both going to make mistakes and at one point or another, each of the kids will probably hate us for something. All we can do is make sure whatever we do for them, we do out of love. But I can tell you one thing for sure. The fact that you're this worried about hurting them already puts you miles ahead of Loki's father and your father. Besides, I know you and I know how crazy you are about our kids. They're in good hands with you."

Clint looked over at her, marvelling at how she always seemed to know the right thing to say. He leaned in and kissed her. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

He felt her smile against his lips as she said, "Personally, I think I settled."

"I think you did too," he replied and they both laughed.

"So what was the deal with that old man?" Laura asked.

He groaned and flopped back on the bed. The last thing he felt like doing was revisiting all the feelings stirred up by Odin's visit. "Can I tell you tomorrow? It's been a long day."

"Clint."

"It has," he protested. "Did you see all those shutters I had to paint? And then dealing with that guy and now we've got to make a turtle habitat-"

"All right, all right, you big baby," Laura said. "But you _are_ going to tell me tomorrow. I won't let you off the hook 'til you do."

"Oh, I know you won't."

She gave him a playful slap on his thigh. "You're insufferable sometimes."

"Yeah, but you married me anyway."

"Yeah, I did." She leaned down and gave him a kiss before getting off the bed, leaving Clint alone.

He really didn't know what he'd done to deserve her. Or the rest of his family, he thought as he heard the front door open and shut and the clamouring of his children's voices drifted up to him. He did know one thing, though. He was a lucky, lucky man.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're thinking that Edwin Olson was a bit of an obvious alias for Odin, you're not wrong, but it was chosen for good reason. One of the many names Odin was called by in the Prose Edda is Auðun, an English rendering of which is apparently _Edwin_. (They have the same meaning.) _Olson_ comes from the comics. If you've been in the fandom a while, you've probably absorbed at least a little of Thor's comic book history so you may already know that Thor had a human alter-ego at the start, Donald Blake. What you may not know is Blake wasn't his only human guise over the years. He actually had two more, one of which was named Jake Olson. The storyline was a bit convoluted but basically Jake Olson was a paramedic who was killed during a battle between Thor and the Destroyer. Thor was nearly killed as well but it was decided that he had to restore the balance of life in the universe after accidentally causing Jake's death. So in return for being allowed to live on, he was to take on Jake's form and live out the rest of Jake's life, only transforming back into Thor when he was needed. Things got even more twisted when Loki essentially resurrected Jake's original body and did bad stuff that he hoped Thor/Jake would be blamed for. In the end, Odin stepped in and stopped him, making it seem that it wasn't Jake committing all those crimes, but his previously unknown (and utterly fictional) twin brother, _Loren_. Loki was then banished to earth in the form of Loren as punishment, where he was arrested and put in jail. 
> 
> But as is often the case in comics, that story point was forgotten about pretty quickly. The next time Loki turned up, he was back in his usual godly form and his time as a human was never mentioned at all. 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think. You can talk to me here or over on tumblr [here](theclassicblunders.tumblr.com). Thanks for reading!


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